Stranger Things
by kirkVSpicard
Summary: What would it be like to serve on the star ship Enterprise with a Vulcan second in command? Friendships are formed, connections are made, relationships evolve. Maybe things aren't so different in outer space.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction! I'm not very well versed with how to format the text through this website, but I did my best. Planning to post chapters as I finish them. I hope someone gets at least some amusement out of this story. Didn't go into a lot of detail about the ship or crew just because this was just a fun amateur first attempt. Thanks for reading! Please comment if you like.

1

I'd been staring out at space for at least an hour, all the while pretending to be working on the engine efficiency report I needed to finish. My official title was Lieutenant, an upper level science officer position. The U.S.S. Enterprise had only been my home for a relatively short time, but in that time I'd risen to a fairly prominent positionthe in science department. However, I'd recently taken on a side project helping Chief Engineer Scott, or "Scotty" as he was called, fixing an engine output efficiency problem. It wasn't my main area of expertise, but I had known Scotty since coming aboard the Enterprise and we had hit it off as friends almost immediately. I always looked forward to listening to his stories about old Scotland while helping in Engineering, and occasionally while sharing drinks off-duty. Scotty valued the engineering of the Enterprise above even his oldest most treasured bottles of Scotch from home . I knew this because he consistently reminded me once he had a few drinks in him.

I tried once again to refocus my attention on the small lit up screen of the device in my hand. It was 01:00 hours and I could feel my tired eyelids becoming heavy.  
I flopped backwards onto my soft bed and closed my eyes . I could just finish the report down in engineering tomorrow, and anyways I was sort of secretly looking for any palpable excuse to get away from my work in my department currently. The Federation had a couple decorated admirals aboard the Enterprise overseeing our visit to a nearby star system. We had all been briefed on the importance of the visit for scientific purposes, but the real pressure was coming down from the heads of Star Fleet to ensure the Enterprise didn't mess up. That wasn't really unusual for the Enterprise; it was one of the best ships in the fleet and we were often given high priority assignments. Subsequently however the Captain and higher up officers on board must have been feeling the heat, based on the high tension among the crew the past week.

Among my own department, there were rumors of several people having received reprimands for displeasing the admirals. Again, this was nothing new, however it meant more science officer involvement. Commander Spock, second in command on board the Enterprise, was technically the highest ranked science officer. As the Captain's second in command, he spent most of his on duty time on the bridge. Spock was half Vulcan and therefore extremely difficult to hold a conversation with unless it was scientifically substantive or at least relevant to our tasks at hand. Still, I had enjoyed several conversations with him on a more personal level, which was to say they didn't involve discussing efficiency of data collection on scientific studies. They were brief but insightful discussions of meditation, Vulcan disciplines and human and Vulcan ideological differences. Of course, it was impossible to tell if he actually got any enjoyment out of these conversations or if he was utterly indifferent to them as he was to most things. Even so, I valued any insight I could get from him and tried to respect his privacy and tendencies.

There was always an abundance of jokes floating around about Spock's lack of emotion or human tendencies. There was also a sub-category of the skeptics consisting of female crew members who were of the opinion that while Spock was extremely lacking in understanding human emotion, his superior intellect and physical strength made him fodder for romantic fantasizing. I could no longer even count the number of times I'd heard a comment along the lines of "he sure isn't very warm, but I wouldn't turn him away from my quarters if you know what I mean." It was to be expected, and mostly in light-hearted fun, but I had a lot of respect of the Commander and sometimes I found it more irritating than amusing.

Despite my appreciation for his level-headedness and Vulcan logic, I had generally been avoiding him recently in light of the added pressure of the admirals. I had been working under Spock since my arrival on the Enterprise and knew how efficient he could be; it got to a point where I just couldn't take another full shift or double shift of everyone complaining about how dry his personality was or how strict he had been about their performance. I had never personally found the Commander to be less than tactful in his delivery of performance queues, but then not everyone accepted his Vulcan half so easily.

My worries over the report were just beginning to fade away into much needed sleep when Scotty's accent blared out of the intercom in my room.

"Lieutenant, Chief Engineer Scott here," he said.

I sighed heavily to myself before hitting the button on the wall communicator.

"I'm here, Scotty," I managed to say groggily. "What can I do for you?"

There was a brief pause, then Scotty's voice, slightly hesitant.

"Well I know it's a god awful hour for this," he said, "but I wondered if you just might have a few minutes to go over some ideas for the engine output report. Beggin' your pardon if I woke ya', it's just that our deadline's been pushed forward again in light of the admirals being aboard. Cap'n wants the problem fixed by the end of tomorrow at the latest."

"You're killing me, Scotty," I said with a smirk on my face, knowing I was going to end up pulling an all-nighter. Scotty was too good a friend to disappoint.

"What if I were to offer an incentive," Scotty said, "a glass of that Scotch I've been tellin' you about?"

My smile grew slightly bigger at his offer.

"I suppose as long as we're off duty, a drink wouldn't hurt," I reasoned. "With the tension around here, it's the least we can do for ourselves."

"Aye, I've a feeling we'll all be feeling the pressure 'til this mission is 100 percent under wraps," Scotty says, the stress evident in his voice.

"Alright, I'll meet you up there," I said begrudgingly. "Let's try to keep this somewhat brief, I've gotta get some sleep if I'm gonna be working under my own department tomorrow."

"Aye," said Scotty, and I could hear the humor in his voice, "Commander Spock is sure to have everyone down there ready for an early shore leave."  
I shook my head with a laugh and peeled myself off the bed.

"I'll see you in a few."


	2. Chapter 2

2

Three hours and two glasses of top quality scotch later, I thanked Scotty for his generosity and in return accepted his thanks for hashing out the details of the engine output problem. The smaller details would have to be worked out tomorrow, but the bulk of the work was done. We wished eachother goodnight and parted ways, myself feeling a bit unbalanced and foggy. Alcohol use was restricted to quarters, and only a certain amount was allowed onboard. I headed to the turbo lift, grateful to finally be heading to bed, even if it was only for a few brief hours. I yawned and straightened my wrinkled clothes as I walked into the open turbo lift,… straight into a tall, unamused Vulcan.

Spock automatically reached out to stabilize me, thankfully stopping me from making even more a fool of myself by falling. Even in my foggy state of mind, I could feel the panic creeping up on me; I was drunk and out in the corridors late at night, and now I'd run right into my commanding officer who just happened to be the person with the least tolerance for bullshit on the entire ship.

"Commander, I'm so sorry," I stammered, feeling even more awkward than one usually felt around Commander Spock. "I was just working late on the engine report output… I mean engine output report…"

I inwardly cringed at my slip of the tongue while trying to avoid eye contact without it being completely obvious. Spock released his grip on my arms but did not widen the gap between us. With my less than average height, I had to look almost straight up at him.

"Lieutenant," he spoke in that stern, gravelly voice as he looked down at me, "you appear to be somewhat unsteady."

My panic rose even more as he spoke. I tried to steady myself just as the turbo lift began moving and thought I had done a fine job of it, but Spock's quizzical look seemed to suggest otherwise. I had only had two half-full glasses of scotch over more than three hours, so I wasn't exactly tanked. It was just that the sleep deprivation and the drinks had culminated at this unfortunate moment to work against me in the face of scrutiny.

"Well, sir, I could use some sleep," I said, trying not to blatantly lie to my superior. "I was just headed to my quarters. To get some sleep."

Too redundant? I wasn't sure. I held my breath under that penetrating gaze and hoped Commander Spock was in a good mood, or at least a less austere mood than usual.

"Lieutenant," that stern voice said, still looking down at me, "Am I correct in assuming you were assisting Chief Engineer Scott?"

 _Oh god_ , I thought in resignation, _why would he ask me that? He must know something..._

"Ah, yes," I said hesitantly, "Sir."

I entered the command for the turbo lift to take me to my floor.

"You were, technically, off duty, I presume?" he said.

"Right, technically," I stammered. "I mean yes, sir. Very off duty."

 _Very off duty? There aren't varying degrees of off dutiness, Jesus Christ... Is dutiness even a word?_

"Lieutenant," Commander Spock said again, and I was sure he was going to call me out, "Are you entirely sure you will be feeling well enough to be on duty in several hours?"  
 _  
I'd say it depends what level of dutiness you're expecting, Sir. And this is the slowest this turbo lift has ever moved!_

"Of course, Commander," I answered instead, trying to sound reassuring. "I just need some rest, that's all. The engine problem just took a bit longer than I'd planned. Than Scotty had planned, I mean. I mean Chief Engineer Scott."

I was too anxious to look at Commander Spock, so instead I prayed for the turbo lift doors to open before he could say "Lieutenant" one more time.

Just in time, the doors opened to reveal my quiet corridor. I practically sprang out of the turbo lift in my haste.

"Good night, Commander," I said quickly.

I glimpsed the commander's raised eyebrow before the doors closed.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," he quipped just at the doors shut.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off my forehead that I hadn't realized was there. I trudged down the hallway to my quarters and practically fell into my bed with fatigue. All my worries could wait a few hours.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Morning was there before I knew it, and I slowly sat up to find that I had a headache and was extremely thirsty. The restrictions on alcohol onboard were suddenly starting to make a lot of sense. I changed into my uniform and was about to put my hair up how I usually wore it but in the interest of saving time decided to skip it and leave it down.  
As I took the turbo, last night started to come together in my mind more fully. I recalled the late night of working, drinks with Scotty, then…  
 _  
Oh God, that really happened last night._

The expression on Commander Spock's face when I ran right into him on the turbo lift was clear in my mind still. He was likely to be in the area where I conducted my research if he wasn't stationed on the bridge today. I could think of nothing more embarrassing than accidentally getting drunk and then having to share an awkward turbo lift ride with a sullen Commander Spock, except perhaps facing him the next morning. Did he know why I'd been acting so strange? If he had, surely he would have said something. He and I were familiar, but I wasn't sure we could call ourselves friends, so why would he not call me out on my transgressions like he would any other officer?

I tried to put the incident out of my mind and focus on the work at hand, but even as I worked it occupied some corner of my thoughts. And that was almost the most confusing part of it all, the question of why I couldn't just be happy I had gotten away with it. Why were Commander Spock's motives of any interest to me? Racking my brain was getting me nowhere but more irritated.

Near the end of my shift, when my work had slowed to a total halt largely due to lack of focus and motivation, I figured it was time to call it a day. Crew members weren't technically allowed to leave their shifts early, but because of my higher rank I consistently put in extra hours which made it possible to sneak out once in a while. I headed down the corridor trying to decide between joining Lieutenant Uhura in the general commons area where she usual was at this time or playing a game of chess with Helm Operator Sulu, that is if they weren't both preoccupied with the heavier than usual workload. I had finally made up my mind on a game or two of chess when I heard someone say my name just down the hall. I turned to find Captain James Kirk walking toward me.

I had known the captain since coming aboard and was fortunate enough to develop a friendship with him in that time. He liked to poke fun at our age difference since I was nearly ten years younger, but I could tell he valued our friendship as much as I did. I had been on several away missions with the Captain and Doctor McCoy as science officer when Commander Spock was otherwise engaged in work on the Enterprise, and the dynamic between the two was quite entertaining. They had obviously been friends for quite some time, and it had taken me a while to become comfortable working with them as both a new crew member and a younger science officer, but they'd been extremely generous towards me and I felt fortunate to consider them friends.

"Captain, you're looking for me?" I said with a smile. "That's never been a good thing."

The captain smirked and patted a hand on my shoulder as he reached me.

"Well lucky for me I'm just the messenger this time," he replied with a smile.

We continued walking down the corridor as we spoke.

"Who has you running errands?" I demanded jokingly. "If it's Doctor McCoy, I'll set him straight for you."

The Captain laughed a short chuckle and shook his head.

 _Jeez, we're even shortening our laughs to save time things are so hectic around here,_ I thought.

"Actually," he said in a somewhat regretful tone, "I just came by to pass on a message from Spock. I'm on my way down to the admirals' quarters to reaffirm our appreciation for their…assistance…on this mission."

The captain's struggle to find a non-insulting descriptor for the admirals was amusing, but my breathing stopped momentarily at the mention of Commander Spock. This had to be about the incident last night. What had he told the captain? Certainly if he had said anything, Captain Kirk wouldn't be acting so casual toward me, what with the arguably jaunty stepping and the friendly shoulder clapping.

I smiled politely at the captain and tried to hide my uneasiness.

"I can imagine those two have been all sorts of fun," I joked.

"Well when they're not pulling rank, they're regaling me with tales of their days as captains and how things were done in the old days. Much more efficiently, according to them."

I could honestly say I did love the Captain's sense of humor. And it didn't hurt that he was an amazing person I always just felt fortunate to be around. He had that kind of personality, you couldn't feel envy or malice toward him; he was just too damn well-rounded.

"Sounds like a real treat," I said. "You said something about Commander Spock?"

The captain nodded his head, as if he'd already forgotten what we were talking about. It was sort of comforting, at least, that he was going about it so casually. That had to count for something, right?

"Right, right, Spock's message," he said. "It was something along the lines of having you sign off on the engine output report. Some question or another, he seemed to feel you were the person to ask. I told him Scotty had the thing under control, but he was insistent. You know how Spock can be, efficient to the point of… Well anyways, you might just catch him on the bridge if you hurry."

I felt somewhat relieved that Commander Spock had clearly not mentioned anything to the captain, but still I felt a sense of anxiety creeping up on me at the thought of having to look him in the eye. I was lucky to get away without a reprimand last night, and all I wanted to do was avoid him until the air had cleared. But that was apparently not an option.

"Well thanks for the message," I said, starting to walk the other way down the corridor. "And good luck with your two new best friends."

The captain gave me a harried look and threw his hands up in a "what can you do" type of gesture.

I smiled as we went our separate ways. It was refreshing to see the captain wasn't letting the stress around the ship affect him too much, at least not outwardly. Still, I had my own stress to worry about. I just wanted to put this whole engine output report behind me and forget about it. There was enough to worry about right now without the added weight of a certain Vulcan's disapproval of my poorly timed exploits. And yet it still irked me, that I even felt such an odd sense of uneasiness about it. The sooner it was finished, the better.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I kind of used some tech references from TNG in here too as far as communicators and parts of the ship and whatnot, and some of it I just straight up improvised. Thanks for reading!

4

I sighed to myself and resolved to invest in my own small supply of scotch for my living quarters. It was clearly integral to the cause of my troubles, but at this point I could really use a drink.

Still standing in the corridor where the captain and I had parted ways, I pressed the intercom button on the wall and waited for whoever was on the bridge to answer.

"Engineer Scott, here," came Scotty's voice.

 _It figures.  
_  
"Scotty, is Commander Spock still on the bridge, by chance?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid you've just missed him, Lieutenant." said Scotty.

I sighed to myself. _Can we possibly draw out my shame any longer?_

"Any idea where he's headed?" I asked, secretly hoping he didn't have the answer.

"I can't say for sure," said Scotty. "Captain Kirk mentioned something about the engine report."

"Yeah, funny story about that," I said rubbing my forehead in imagined pain. "Remind me to share it with you some time."

"You don't mean to say there was an error?" Scotty asked, sounding somewhat panicked.

"No, no," I reassured him, "nothing like that. I just had a little run in with Commander Spock after we finished the report. Right after we finished it. Last night. In the turbo lift."

I lowered my voice for the last part, even though Scotty was the only one listening in on the intercom on the bridge. I supposed it helped me to feel like less of a gossip.

"You mean…" came Scotty's hesitant response.

"Indeed," I said solemnly.

"I can't help feelin' partly to blame," said Scotty, "I hope he wasn't too… observant?"

"I thought I was in the clear," I said, "but now that I hear he needs a word with me about the engine report, which you and I just agreed was flawless, I'm not so sure."

"Well good luck to ye,'" said Scotty. "If he does give ya' the third degree, I've got a wee bit o' that scotch left you can drown your sorrows in."

I scoffed at Scotty's proposal.

"I'm afraid that's what got me into this mess," I said, "but thanks for the offer."

"Aye, Lieutenant," said Scotty. "Engineer Scott, out."

I switched from the intercom panel to the computer panel on the wall of the corridor. There was a control pad on it, but it also responded to voice activation.

Computer, locate Commander Spock," I said.

The computer's female voice answered in its monotone drawl.

"Commander Spock is in his quarters, deck seventeen."

My eyebrows went up in surprise. _What the hell is he doing there when I'm supposed to be signing off on this stupid report or getting reamed out or something?_ I was used to taking control of situations, but this was something else. No one ever went to Commander Spock's private quarters; he was a Vulcan and spent hours meditating and reading texts and doing God knows what other logical, joy-depriving things. Long math equations, I suspected. Actually I was interested in all of those things a great deal, I was just quietly fuming about my situation.

Maybe if I call him on the intercom in his quarters we can just settle this mess.

I hit the key for the correct command and after a moment Spock's voice answered.

"This is Commander Spock."

I announced myself to him and explained getting Captain Kirk's message.

"That is correct, Lieutenant," he said in that low voice that was nearly as monotone as the computer's. "I have several minor questions regarding the engine report. I would appreciate your input. I do not anticipate it taking more than a few minutes of your time."

"It's no problem, sir," I answered. "Should I head down to my station, then, or…?"

"If you do not mind, Lieutenant," he answered quickly, "I believe my quarters would suffice."

I made an unnecessarily childish face at the intercom, as though the machine were somehow responsible.

"Ah, sir, are you sure you wouldn't rather go over the report on the science deck or on the bridge?" I tried to reason.

There was a brief pause during which I firmly believed he was coming to his senses.

"As I said, Lieutenant," he reiterated, "I believe my quarters will suffice."

I furrowed my eyebrows disappointedly at the intercom.

"Alright then, I suppose that'd be… fine, sir," I said. "I'll just be a minute."

"Very well, Lieutenant. Spock out."

I stood there for a minute contemplating possible outcomes. Was he going to tell me there was some error in the report? That was impossible, Scotty and I had done our homework on this one for sure. So maybe he really did just have a few minor questions? But if that were the case, why the hell was he having me come to his quarters, a place hardly anyone ever visited, to resolve such a minor issue? I strongly suspected he was going to express his distaste for my behavior the previous night. Still, I wished there were a more accurate way to gauge his current mood. It was damn near impossible in person sometimes, let alone over the intercom.

I stood there for a moment, leaning against the wall of the corridor in irritation, then set off for the turbo lift. If I was going to get chewed out, I might as well just move forward with the events already in motion and hope I could be somehow charming and repentant enough to return unscathed.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Ten minutes later I arrived at Commander Spock's quarters. It didn't take even five minutes to get there from the deck I had been on, but I'd taken the longest way possible despite my resolution to get this over with. I was still uncomfortable with the thought of being in Commander Spock's private quarters. It felt like an intrusion just standing outside the door.

After pacing back and forth for a minute, I finally pushed the button on the panel beside the door and waited for Commander Spock to answer. After a moment, the door opened to reveal a sight I had never imagined possible: Commander Spock in casual clothes. He was wearing grey pants and the type of plain black t-shirt most crew members wore under their uniform shirts. Not exactly an exciting wardrobe, but still far from the usual on-duty commander in uniform.

It was actually a nice sight to see him looking at ease. It felt less rigid, more like he was just another member of the crew and not second in command. In truth, it wasn't hard to notice the separation between Commander Spock and the rest of the crew, partially because he was Vulcan but also due to the division between higher ranking officers and regular crew members. I sometimes felt a tinge of the isolation that came with holding a higher rank on the ship, but I imagined it was nothing compared to what his situation must be like. Of course I did consider myself to be decently friendly in contrast to Spock's natural tendency toward solitude.

Commander Spock moved back to allow me to enter the room, raising an eyebrow as he did.

"Lieutenant," he said in place of hello. "I thought perhaps you had been delayed."  
 _  
Translation: what took you so long?_ I thought.

"No delay, sir" I said, entering the room fully.

Difficult as it was to make out my surroundings in the dim lighting, I was able to gather that is was very modern-looking room, aesthetically pleasing but not particularly cozy or comfortable. There were a lot of objects I didn't recognize, most likely Vulcan items I had never read or heard about. It was kind of amazing how immaculate he managed to keep the place, even with all the advancements in technology and automated cleaning available to us on the ship. And to think, I practically congratulated myself every time I bothered to pick my clothes up off the floor in my quarters. I was suddenly grateful we we're having this rendezvous in _my_ living quarters. Talk about awkward.

"Am I correct then, Lieutenant," he said, "in my assumption that our brief interaction this morning has caused you to feel some uncertainty regarding our current dealings?"

I tried not to register my surprise, but it must have been clear from the way I was looking at him. He was wearing that all-knowing expression of his. The one that was pretty much just his regular face, because he was basically all-knowing. I honestly hadn't expected him to mention our earlier incident, at least not so forwardly, since what he referred to as the morning had been only the end of an extremely long night I was trying to forget. Apparently I had been right to worry after all.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said, trying not to look as guilty as I felt.

Commander Spock stepped closer without breaking his gaze. It wasn't unusual behavior for anyone else, but it was definitely irregular for him. I'd worked side by side with the commander on countless occasions where not a single word was spoken and if it was, the common courtesy of an accompanying glance wasn't present. We had had conversations on a more personal level before, but even those always involved some larger task at hand which he diverted most of his attention to. Was it just that we weren't at a work station or on the bridge?

I stood where I had entered the room, not feeling comfortable enough to venture in further without invitation. It felt as though if I were to touch anything at all it would simply shatter into pieces.

"Lieutenant," said the commander, softening his expression ever so slightly, "how you and Engineer Scott choose to pass the time while off duty is of no concern to me. I certainly do not intend to reprimand either of you for it, if that is in fact the source of your discomfort."

I furrowed my brows in distaste at his choice of wording. 'No concern' to him. Of course not. Suddenly I felt stupid for thinking this was all about me in any way. It was just work, just the commander taking care of business as usual. I should have felt relieved, but oddly enough I felt disappointed and belittled, unjustified as the thought may have been. I tried to put it out of my mind in the interest of getting the engine report issue taken care of.

"Of course, Commander," I said. "I'm not uncomfortable."

"You seemed particularly unsettled in the turbo lift, Lieutenant," he said.

"It was just a long night of working on the engine problem," I said quickly, "after an even longer day of working on other problems. I guess I was tired."

"Respectfully, Lieutenant," said Commander Spock, "I do not believe you were simply fatigued."

I shuffled uncomfortably and tried rather unsuccessfully to tow the line somewhere between looking right at him the whole time and pretending to be extremely interesting in the rest of his quarters. _You should decide if you're reprimanding me or not. I mean come on, what is this?_

"I am familiar with your attentiveness to your duties," said the commander, "as well as your resilience when under pressure. You are undoubtedly a fine officer and a credit to the crew of the ship. Therefore, I do not believe your demeanor was simply the result of a long night of work."

Damn, how did he manage to veil that in a genuinely awesome compliment? I stared at him as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, unsure of how to handle the situation. At this point I really did wish he would just ream me out; being given this weird ultimatum to admit my own wrongdoings felt considerably worse at the moment.

I sighed.

"Okay, Commander," I said sounding as resigned as I could without being disrespectful. "I was assisting Mr. Scott with the efficiency report as a sort of personal favor, so in return he offered me a drink. I guess I didn't realize how long we'd been working, and I had a long day, so by the time I ran into you in the turbo lift… Well, I mean, I _was_ tired…"

Spock turned slightly away now, his hands behind his back the way he often had them as he paced in thought. Even in his casual clothes, he carried himself like the high ranking officer he was. Damn that excellent posture!

"And frankly, a little drunk," I said quickly.

Commander Spock faced me again this time with a measuring expression, perhaps weighing in on my capacity for awkward interactions. _Actually, that would explain a lot,_ I thought with an inward shrug.

Finally he broke the silence.

"You may enter the room fully, Lieutenant," he said, "if you are so inclined."

I took a few hesitant steps forward. Spock turned back around to face me. He addressed me this time with his usual 'Lieutenant' but also with my last name. I wasn't sure what to make of it, exactly. Perhaps it was nothing, but somehow it felt sort of strange. We generally referred to each other by rank, since we were always on duty and in work uniforms. Once in a while if we were in particularly good spirits we would get more specific, but it was fairly rare. The addition of my last name was puzzling; I wasn't sure if it was more or less formal.

"I assure you I regard your actions in the turbo lift early this morning not with disapproval or criticism but rather with particular interest."

I stood there uncomfortably, waiting for the part where this was supposed to somehow make sense.

"My inquiries about the engine report are, in truth, quite minor. They could, perhaps, have waited until your shift tomorrow, as there were no errors requiring adjustment, only some small gaps in final documenting procedure, no doubt due to the work being completed outside of actual engineering."

I raised my eyebrows in some concern.

"I can take care of it, sir," I assured him, "tonight, even. It's no problem, really."

Commander Spock came forward, closing the distance between us slowly. I felt myself immediately grow tense at his close proximity, trying to ignore the warmth in my cheeks. Even on duty in a normal setting, I always felt that sense of anxiousness when he had to work near me. It was an uneasiness I didn't feel with other high ranking comrades. Even Captain Kirk I felt no such anxiety around, though he did happen to be a personal friend.

"Truthfully, Lieutenant," he said, his focus on me again, "I have little concern over the issue. My larger purpose for calling you here involves a request somewhat personal in nature."

I felt myself tense up even more at his words. A personal request from Commander Spock? Part of me was dying of curiosity at such an intriguing thought, yet another part of me could only imagine what daunting side project someone of his intellectual capacity could be signing me up for.

"I see. What kind of request?"

"I have been continuing to compile research on my studies of human and Vulcan sociological relations as I have mentioned to you in the past." He paused and looked at me, and I realized he was waiting for my affirmation that I recalled the conversation.

"Yes," I said quickly, "I remember, of course."

"I have been commissioned in some small part by the Federation to organize this research into a usable text for documentation, to be utilized in cultural studies courses by potential Star Fleet cadets at the Academy as well as to serve as a component to the current treaties in place between human and vulcan kind."

I took a moment to decipher Commander Spock's characteristically excessive wording and translate it into actual relatable terms. It was a process I had become very good at since meeting the Commander upon my arrival on the Enterprise. I'd actually tried putting a name to the process, not that I was planning on ever sharing that extraordinarily embarrassing information with anyone. Currently in the running were

"They're having you publish a text," I said in conclusion. "And you want me to… do what exactly?"  
There was a pause and the two of us just looked at eachother. I wondered if Commander Spock felt uncomfortable making this request.

"Star Fleet has requested that I select a consultant of my choice to assist in the completion of the project," he said stoically. "In addition to observing your skills as a leading science officer, I have consistently found our conversations on your part be insightful, though-provoking and emotionally controlled."

I couldn't help feeling flattered. Professional compliments from the commander were quite the honor , but personal ones were completely unprecedented. If it were anyone else, I might suspect he was simply paving the way to sign me up for the project, but Vulcans weren't akin to falsehoods like humans. Even though Commander Spock was half human, he had adopted a Vulcan way of life in almost every sense. Aside from enlisting in Star Fleet, there was hardly anything about him that gave him away as being anything less than a full Vulcan.

I'd always suspected there were many reasons behind that, but I never thought I would get an opportunity to discuss them with Commander Spock. Perhaps I was assuming too much, thinking the project would involve any personal input on Commander Spock's part. But then why else would Star Fleet have contracted him to be the one to write the text? Commander Spock had made it sound like simply the makings of a Star Fleet Academy text book, but I suspected it was in fact more likely a much more important piece of writing. The Commander took his duties onboard the Enterprise very seriously and placed them above all other projects in priority. He would never have taken on another assignment unless it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Also there was the fact that Star Fleet had sanctioned the commissioning of not only one leading officer but two. Most would consider it an extremely lucky break on my part.

Still, I was hesitant to respond, standing there in my commanding officer's private quarters, being offered a special assignment no one else had ever had the opportunity to work on. It was daunting, but there was just no denying it was a great opportunity, and I'd be crazy to turn it down. There didn't appear to be any other option.

He was watching me as impassively at ever, but I hope at least some part of him actually looked forward to working with me, maybe even hoped I would say yes. Or as close to hoping as the commander was able to come.

"It sounds like a great opportunity, Sir," I said, managing to sound grateful through my apprehension. "I appreciate you choosing me. I know you must have had a lot of other choices."

I was thankful, to be certain, but I also wanted more details and just didn't feel like it was the right time to ask. I would wait until we spoke next about this to find out exactly what we were delving into.

He broke my gaze and I was glad to breathe easy again for a moment. He turned away and took a few paces.  
"Am I to understand, then," said Commander Spock, "that you are willing to accept my offer to act as my consultant on the project?"

I took a deep breath and shrugged.

"Yes," I answered, "I suppose so."

I exhaled the breath I had been holding in and Commander Spock thanked me for my decision.

"I believe our efforts will be admirable and quite useful to the Academy as well as to the collective of research on the topic, one which I, understandably, find particularly interesting.

I smiled a bit at this last part as I turned away to meet him at the door. He saw me out after politely wished me a good evening, and we parted ways.

As I walked out the door of his quarters and headed down the hall to the turbolift, I should have been figuring out how to shift my schedule around to adjust for this additional workload, or at least considering how to best approach my role in the project. There was plenty to think about, would be plenty to _do._

That being said, all I seemed to be contemplating was that image in my head of Commander Spock in casual clothes.

I shook my head to myself in disbelief and let slip a short incredulous laugh. I had the sense that this assignment was going to prove more interesting than I'd thought.


End file.
